Blind Date
by Enigmaticrose4
Summary: Senior Prom is a rite of passage for every teenager in 1950s America. What Hermione Granger doesn't know is now much stepping out of her comfort zone will change her life. Muggle AU


No, I have no legal right to any of the HP characters.

 **AN:** _Originally written for RollAPrompt2017_

 _Entry #7 Claim Only_

 _Hermione Granger/Oliver Wood_

 _Muggle_ AU

* * *

Hermione set down her pencil and looked up at the light knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Her mother opened the door. She was immaculately dressed, as always, in her simple cotton house dress. Her apron was still on, and, judging from the wet spots on it she had just finished washing the dinner dishes.

"Hermione, dear, do you have a moment?"

"Of course, mother. What is it?"

Her mother's face grew serious, and she came inside, shutting the door behind her and sitting on Hermione's neatly made bed.

A shiver of worry wiggled into Hermione's heart as she stared at her mother. All thoughts of the essay she'd been working on, were swept from her mind.

"I'm afraid I have bad news. Narcissa just phoned me. Her son can't come home from school for the weekend anymore. That means—"

"That I won't have an escort to the Senior Prom." Disappointment bubbled up inside of Hermione, but she knew she didn't feel as bad as she could have. It wasn't like she'd ever thought she'd go to a Senior Prom before a few months ago. Her old school, back in England, didn't have a prom. Besides, her date had only been the son of one of her father's friends. It wasn't like she was romantically interested in him. "May I use the phone, Mother? I need to call Ginny and let her know not to look for me tomorrow night."

Her mother stood up, "Of course, dear. Go right ahead."

Ginny was the only friend Hermione had made since moving to Delray Beach, Florida. The younger girl was very different from Hermione in many ways, but then, most people were. She'd only be attending the senior prom as her boyfriend was a senior.

Going into the kitchen,Hermione rang up the Weasley household as her mother returned to the dishes. When Mrs. Weasley answered, Hermione asked to speak to Ginny.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Ginny. How are you?" Hermione asked.

"I'm doing well, and you? I wasn't expecting to hear from you as you told me you'd be busy getting all your homework done tonight. So you'd be free for the weekend." Ginny responded.

"That's what I'm calling about. My escort fell through. I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to Senior Prom tomorrow."

"Oh no! That won't do! I'll talk with my mother. Your last date was just the son of a family friend, right? Go do your homework. I'll call you back!"

The line went dead before Hermione could voice a single protest. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Knowing Ginny, she'd likely get one of her many brothers to escort Hermione. And wouldn't that just be awkward? Still, there wasn't much Hermione could do, so she bid goodnight to her mother and headed back to her room. She had essays to write and notes to review.

* * *

It was early the next morning, as Hermione ate her toast and eggs, the phone rang again. Her mother answered it but quickly handed it off to Hermione. The long curly cord was strung across the kitchen like a tripwire, making her father mutter in annoyance as he stepped over it to sit at the table.

"Hello?" Hermione asked. She knew it had to be Ginny calling and she was half afraid of what her friend had to say.

"Morning, Hermione! I have great news! So, I talked to my mother, who talked to my brother Charlie, who talked to his old school friend, who just happens to be back in town for the weekend! And don't worry! His mother and mine are longtime friends! They went to boarding school together."

Hermione sat there in silence, her not quite awake yet brain trying to make sense of what she had just heard. Not that Ginny realized this.

"Oh! And he just brought his tuxedo back from the University of Miami! So he's all set! Isn't that keen?"

Hermione hesitantly nodded before she remembered she was on the phone. "Oh, yes, that's wonderful, Ginny."

"Great! He'll be at your house at eight to pick you up! See you tonight!"

The phone went as suddenly silent as it had gone the night before. Hermione stared at the earpiece for a moment before shaking her head in disbelief and standing up to put it back in its cradle. Being sure to keep the long cord from tangling.

"What is it, dear?" Her mother asked.

Hermione looked at her mother, and then over at her father. Both were looking at her curiously. She couldn't blame them. It was extremely rare for anyone to call her. Even Ginny. "I'm apparently going to the Senior Prom still. Ginny found me a date."

"Oh? Who is it? One of her brother's?" Her father asked.

She shook her head, "No. I don't know who it is. But he's a friend of her brother Charlie. Their mothers are also friends. He'll be here at eight tonight."

Her parents shared worried looks, but Hermione pretended not to see them. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about having a blind date. But at least she had her homework done for the weekend.

* * *

The doorbell rang at precisely eight o'clock. Hermione was still upstairs, holding up her hair as her mother buttoned up the back of the dress. Distantly she heard her father open the door. His deep voice quickly joined by one that was equally deep and strong.

"All done, let me see you," her mother said.

Hermione took a step away and turned around, smiling lightly. Her mother smiled back, "You look lovely. How do you feel?"

She shrugged, "Nervous? Unsure? Possibly nauseous. You know I don't care much for strangers. If I didn't care about Ginny, I wouldn't do this, but I know she'll be disappointed if I don't go."

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to. It's only a dance," her mother said.

Hermione smiled, "If father deems him to be alright, then I'm fine with going. I can always come home after the dance and skip the after party if I'm not having fun."

"Alright then. Here's your wrap."

Hermione took her wrap from her mother and draped it around her shoulders before picking up her evening bag and giving herself a final glance in the mirror.

Nervously taking a deep breath, she followed her mother down the hall and into the entryway. There, her father was trying to be as intimidating as possible but was utterly failing to faze the young man standing by the front door.

The young man was taller than Hermione, but built solidly, more torso than limbs. He was dressed in a deep red tuxedo that stretched tight across muscular shoulders.

"Good evening, Mr…" her mother said, drawing the two men's attention.

"Wood. Oliver Wood, Mrs. Granger," Mr. Wood said, taking a step forward and giving her a short bow before turning to Hermione. He smiled, and her heart missed a beat as he said, "And you must be Miss Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She met his gaze and got a warm, fuzzy feeling inside of her. An entirely new situation. Flustered, she smiled too widely and dropped a small, rather formal curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Wood."

"Please, call me Oliver. Mr. Wood is my father."

"That's a bit forward," her father mumbled under his breath, but her mother shushed him.

"Well, you two don't want to be late. Hermione, are you going to an after party? I hear that's traditional here."

With great effort, Hermione tore her gaze away from Oliver and looked at her mother. "Ginny's boyfriend, Harry Potter. His parents are allowing him to throw an after party. They've got a house over on Highway A1A, on the Atlantic side. I believe their address and number are in the address book."

"They are, well, you two be safe and have a good time," her mother said with a smile, slipping her arm through Hermione's father and moving him away from the front door.

Oliver extended an arm to Hermione, giving her another heart-stopping smile. "Ready?"

She smiled back and nodded.

He led her outside, and it was only good manners that kept her jaw from dropping to the ground at the sight of the car sitting in her parent's driveway. She wasn't much into cars, but she'd heard her father speaking often enough to know this was a nice one. Plus, it was gorgeous.

He led her over to the passenger's side and held open her door for her. "Do you mind the top being down? I have a scarf or two in the glovebox. My sister uses them when she rides with me."

Hermione slipped into the soft leather seat, pulling her dress out of the way of the door. "Yes, please."

He carefully closed the door and then reached around her. So close, she could feel his heat as he opened the glove box and took out a sensible blue scarf. She took it, and he walked around to his side. As he checked the mirrors, she covered her hair.

"Your car is lovely," she said.

He turned and grinned at her, "Just wait 'til you hear her. She's hopped up. May look like a regular '54 convertible, but she's got a Lincoln export engine under the hood. Did all the work myself."

He turned the key, firing up the engine and proving his words true. She'd never heard a car quite like it.

"So, Hermione, are you ready to have an entertaining evening?"

"Yes."

"Good." He threw the car into reverse, slipping onto the street, then, when they were straightened out he shifted gears without even stopping. Shooting forwards and leaving her parents' house far behind. She laughed, leaning back and looking up at the stars flying by above her head.

Maybe a blind date wasn't so bad.

* * *

She was sweaty, tired, and thoroughly exhilarated when they climbed back in his white convertible — a Ford something she thought — a few minutes after midnight.

"See you at Harry's!" Ginny hollered as she and Harry took off in his red Pontiac.

Oliver whistled, "Now that's a nice car. Little Ginevra has good taste. I would never have guessed."

Hermione giggled, feeling like she had after her parents' last Christmas party when she'd been allowed a bit of wine. "That's how they met. She skipped Home Economics and showed up in Shop Class after hearing some boy had brought in a beat up 1942 Pontiac to work on. They cleaned it up and repaired the engine together. Everyone knew they were dating long before they were caught doing the back seat bingo by her brother Ron."

Oliver threw his head back, his strong features thrown into relief by the light of the moon as he laughed. "She's more like Charlie then I would have thought. Now, how about you give me directions to this bash?"

He burned rubber as soon as he pulled out of their parking spot. She gave him directions as they sped through the dark, quiet little town. She felt positively wicked driving in a convertible after midnight with a boy. If her old classmates could see her now…

Just as they turned onto A1A Oliver slowed the car to a stop, looking at one little house lit up and roaring with music and shouts. "Now that place looks radioactive!" Oliver said, grinning. "Want to stop for a bit? Bashes like this are always a blast."

Hermione frowned, "No. That's the Zabini House. They're probably drinking. Keep driving."

He turned in his seat to look at her. "Oh, come on, Hermione. Live a little. It's your Senior Prom."

"No," she said firmly. She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. "Keep driving."

"Just for a minute. Then we'll go. I swear."

"No."

"Hermione—"

"No."

He reached over and put a hand on her arm. "I swear it will be fine. I've been to bashes like this before. They're a real ride."

She jerked her arm away from him and spun to look into his eyes. "I said, go to Harry's. Or I'll get out and walk."

"You wouldn't—"

She grabbed her clutch and began to remove the scarf from over her hair. Before she could finish, he laid a patch on the road; throwing her back into the soft leather. She didn't look away from the road as they drove, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She'd so enjoyed this evening. Her first date. And now it was ruined.

She could only assume he would drop her off at Harry's and go back to the Zabini bash.

But, to her surprise, he didn't.

He parked the car in an empty spot on the Potters' yard. Hopping out before she could move and open her door for her. He gave her a small smile and led her inside. Once there they socialized with the others, but she didn't feel the same as she had before.

There was something lacking in the air.

Less than an hour later sirens flew past on A1A, heading towards the Zabini house. Gossip broke out as everyone wondered what had happened. But those questions were answered when Zacharias Smith and Lisa Turpin wandered in off the beach a bit later. There was sand in their hair, but everyone was too polite to say so.

"Police showed up out of nowhere!" Zacharias said to an avid audience. "They rounded everyone up and began calling parents."

"Or booking people," Lisa said. "We were down on the beach, taking a walk, so we just hurried on over here."

Hermione moved up to stand by Oliver, addressing him directly for the first time since they'd arrived. "See. That's why I didn't want to go there. Blaise Zabini is trouble."

Oliver's lips quirked in a small smile, and he looked down at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "If we'd only been there for a minute it wouldn't have mattered."

"A minute is never just a minute," she said simply.

He didn't reply so she walked away to go grab a snack.

* * *

"How's your date going? Isn't Oliver dreamy? " Ginny asked, joining Hermione where she sat on the back patio.

"He's nice enough, very different though."

"Well, yes. He's not exactly a bookworm like you. But sometimes opposites attract and balance each other. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of you all night."

Hermione snorted rather indelicately and shook her head, "Not this opposite. He wanted to go to Zabini's party. I had to threaten to walk here before he gave up. Still, I want to thank you for getting me an escort. I've had a lovely evening."

Ginny smiled and patted Hermione's arm, "Well, that's good news. And it's only a date. I didn't expect it to go beyond that. I just wanted to see you here."

Hermione smiled and laid a hand on Ginny's. "Thank you. You're a good friend."

"Ginny! The sky is lightening up." Harry said as he walked up. He held a blanket in his arms and was grinning. "Sunrise here is gorgeous."

Hermione stayed where she was, watching as the two slipped off onto the beach. Other couples followed them until she thought she was the only one still at the house. She'd even seen Harry's parents slip away, his mother giggling like a little girl as they left.

She wondered where Oliver had gotten to.

"Did you want to go down to the beach? Or sit here?"

She jumped, not having heard him walk up.

"I thought you left."

He frowned and looked slightly hurt, though she couldn't imagine why. "Of course not. I have to drive you home. I was just having a light nap in the guest room. So, do you want to go down or stay here?"

She looked around the empty patio, then down at the sandy beach scattered with couples in the growing light. "Up here. Looks a bit crowded down there."

He chuckled, "That it does."

He offered her his hand and led her over to sit on the steps leading down to the sand. When he joined her, she shivered. She hadn't realized she was chilled until she felt his warmth at her side.

"Cold?"

"A bit."

Before she knew it, his red tuxedo jacket was off and draped over the shawl around her shoulders. She caught a whiff of his aftershave and shivered again, this time for an entirely different reason.

"So you go to the University of Miami? What are you studying?"

He shrugged, "I'm not studying anything. Well, I suppose I was getting a business degree, but I'm dropping out."

She gasped, "Dropping out?"

He nodded, "It's not my thing. Besides, it's not like my father ever went to university. And he's done just fine."

"Then what will you do?" she found herself asking. She couldn't imagine _not_ going to a university. She couldn't wait to go to Stetson in the Fall. So many new things to learn.

He shrugged again, "I'm not sure. I've got a job on a charter sailboat out of Miami lined up for the summer. After that? Who knows. I like sports, but I'm not good enough to play professionally in anything. I enjoy working with automobiles, but that's a hobby. I wouldn't want to do it for money. Maybe the military. That's always looked interesting to me. How about you?"

"I've been accepted up at Stetson. It's inland from Daytona Beach."

He whistled, glancing over at her appraisingly, "That's a nice private school. From what my mother has said. You must be really smart."

She blushed, "No, I just study hard."

"Studying can only go so far."

Hermione looked over at him, opening her mouth to protest, but found herself stopped by the expression on his face. She'd never seen anyone look at her like that.

Flustered, she turned her gaze back to the ocean chosing to say nothing more, as did he. The silence that stretched between them was soft and comfortable. Different from those tense minutes on A1A after they left the Zabini's bash.

Hermione smiled and chose to just enjoy the sunrise.

* * *

"Hermione!"

She groaned and cracked an eye open, staring at her open bedroom door, where her mother stood.

"Huh?"

"You should get up, dear."

"What time—?"

"It's after lunch. But that's not why I woke you."

She pried open the other eye and sat up a bit. "Then why—?"

"Your young man from last night is here. He wants to know if you want to go on a boat ride with him and his sister."

That woke Hermione up. Oliver was here? Why? Could he really be interested in her?

Her heart began to pound at the possibility.

"Do you want me to tell him to go?"

She hurriedly shook her head. "No, tell him I'm getting ready."

"Alright then." Her mother softly closed the door and Hermione leaped out of bed. Rushing around she quickly got dressed, finding clothes suitable for going boating.

The entire time a question kept rushing through her mind.

Why was he here?

* * *

Oliver looked around the small little living room as he waited for Hermione. He could hear her mother moving around in the kitchen, and he had no idea where her father was.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Standing up he stretched and walked around the room, absently looking at the photos displayed. He'd only agreed to last night because he'd been too tired to argue with his mother about it.

What interest did he have in going to a prom with some kitten?

Still, he'd cleaned himself up and put on a good show. Charlie had been a good friend, and the girl was friends with Charlie's baby sister.

He hadn't expected the kitten to have claws.

Oliver grinned and bounced on his toes, eagerly waiting for Hermione to arrive. He couldn't wait to get to know her even better.

After all, she may not know it yet, but he had already made up his mind. She was the girl he was going to marry.

* * *

Author's Note: A heartfelt thank you is sent to SaintDionysus for helping me polish this little tale.


End file.
